There’s certain qualities I would name if you asked me what makes a good mom. I’d begin with patient, sacrificial, creative, strong. I’d add in encouraging and consistent, loving and empathetic. In this birds-eye view of mothering though, they’re the words that describe it, not the moments … [Read more...] about Ways of Mothering: The Exhaustion, the Invitation, & the Gift
being a mama
It is evening, it is morning, one day. In the barely-there light of this morning, sun not yet even dancing with the horizon, a baby (fine, fine, a 5-year-old) traipses into my room, and with the pre-dawn light peeking through the blinds, she exclaims “Mommy! Mommy! MOMMA. My tooth? It’s wiggly! I … [Read more...] about On Mothering & the Confusing Mess of Exhaustion and Delight
Sometime in the 1 o’clock hour the other night, a child began crying for me. Well, no, it wasn’t crying, exactly. It was screaming bloody murder. I have always been a little impressed when a parent can go from fast asleep dreaming to racing down the hall- both to tend to the restless child, but … [Read more...] about This mothering life? Harder Than I Ever Imagined.
I was a really good teacher, once. I taught social studies- high school history, juniors mostly. I was even nominated Best New Teacher of the Year for my school district, I really truly was. It felt good, honestly, to be recognized for doing something that you love and doing it well. I … [Read more...] about When It’s Hard to Find Purpose in Motherhood, Do This. It’ll Help. Promise.
I was already awake, but barely, when Brennan walked into my room at 1:00 in the morning last night. See, I had had a bad dream and was just beginning to talk myself down- it was after all just a dream, a silly dream, of course I didn’t lose my wedding rings. As dreams tend to go I don’t know why … [Read more...] about Sometimes Mothering Is Hard
Since the very beginning, I saw that she was more mine than the other two were. Oh, they love me, of course; they adore me absolutely. I am their sun as their days and their hearts revolve around mine. But the other two, they are their Daddy’s. If I am their sun, he is their shooting star, … [Read more...] about the sacred work of no space